Enso
Completed where I begin,
Infinity means nothing,
Repeating my mantra,
Cycles of revolution,
Leave no change on me,
Endless for all eternity.
What does it mean in the end? How each day dawns the breaking sun, bright and brilliant in the morn only to be snuffed out by the shadows of night? How most beautiful of all the world's flowers bloom and blossom for a springtime romp, only to wilt and wither away. And so too would mortals live and rot, each a single drop of rain swallowed by the endless tides. It seems meaningless does it not? The futility of it all, from which a sense of worth is equated to the empty void. But perhaps, just perhaps, in the infinitesimal chance that there exists a reason for it all, then may yet still be a motivation. A drive which makes the circular path spiral to some end, closer and closer as we rise and ascend. For was it not fitting that even a single tear shed from the heavens shall raise the storming seas. And perhaps, it is this wanton desperation for validation, this strive to find a meaning, that fulfills its own eternal quest. A search for meaning, for purpose, for function. Unless of course, this existence was all just a cruel mockery of life, a penny opera played at for sheer entertainment and amusement for a twisted audience unknown.
And as one entered the stage, another had left. It appeared the Umbramancer had melded effortlessly to this band of misfits. To an extent a least, having seemingly won the approval of the female aasimar, and at least the satisfaction of the beholder. The dark drow was more than welcome to inflict more exquisite agonies upon him, but this hazing ritual it seemed was not for everyone. Or was it? From the ranting spew sourced from the betentacled holder, Koan was more than cordial with all newcomers. Of which suggested to the shadowed one that this group was either much larger than they appeared, or far less successful. Something of a suicide squad perhaps given the commentary and numbers present. Yet before another comment could be made in stride (or in the case of the many-eyed-monster in float?), the cat-lizard objected even more of her protests. Something about the current females in the group out-playing her usual hand, so to speak, to which the draconian feline scampered off in a huff. Fair enough, if she was needed, she could be tracked, twas after all his particular job should Jill require a cat of some slug-like skill. 'Sauron' gave his parting acknowledgement, a nod with those ever-burning eyes keen on searing the tabaxi into memory. Then the gaze returned once more to Her, the aasimar who began it all, marking her words with a charmed smile as the devil's wit replied in kind: "It is a blessing then, should one find joy in one's own pain."
It was not too far a swim, to find a rather peculiar tiger. One suggested by the merwoman who seemed to be the guide for the group. Now a tiger on land made for a very fine rug, but underwater? Though almost as expected with a group of this oddity, the group had wove their way to see a polymorphed tiger. One that turned into a siren of blue scales and equally hued hair. And this one appeared to have somehow known the dunderhead, or whatever his name was, the harsh sounds coming from the beholder's mouth hole was rather unpleasant to a civil ear. Though by Koan's intervention, the dark elf had interceded in the inquisition, sparing the Fallen to answer with another clever retort. A clever tongue to twist the words and mind, drowning logic in lies and burying truth in charm. Yet for all the suspicion the beholder had cast upon 'Sauron' it appeared the man, or rather beast, was more than willing to accept a tiger turned into a fishgirl. Tentacles wrapt themselves around flesh and fin, scales and tail, in some lariat of gross mismatch. Although it seemed to the warlock at least, she may have some worth to the beholder.
Ah Koan, would she do the same rite to this newcomer? Another mix of... Species? A druid who so aptly clung on to an abomination? It was almost disgusting to watch the paternalistic affection afforded by Dyn. Yet in away it was amusing to 'Sauron' to watch the ever-vigilant being drop his guard for a familiar face, no matter now small the guard was. Certainly it would appear the tigergirl had his trust, some tidbit to exploit in due time. As the burning gaze scanned over their newest edition to the party. That said, what was their particular purpose of venturing forth into the chasm of the Verdant Stream? There would be an answer in the silence, and patience. As those eyes wandered to meet Jill's while Koan spared a moment to greet the druidess.
Strings drawn tight,
The ends reunited,
A completed close,
The Circle.
Completed where I begin,
Infinity means nothing,
Repeating my mantra,
Cycles of revolution,
Leave no change on me,
Endless for all eternity.
What does it mean in the end? How each day dawns the breaking sun, bright and brilliant in the morn only to be snuffed out by the shadows of night? How most beautiful of all the world's flowers bloom and blossom for a springtime romp, only to wilt and wither away. And so too would mortals live and rot, each a single drop of rain swallowed by the endless tides. It seems meaningless does it not? The futility of it all, from which a sense of worth is equated to the empty void. But perhaps, just perhaps, in the infinitesimal chance that there exists a reason for it all, then may yet still be a motivation. A drive which makes the circular path spiral to some end, closer and closer as we rise and ascend. For was it not fitting that even a single tear shed from the heavens shall raise the storming seas. And perhaps, it is this wanton desperation for validation, this strive to find a meaning, that fulfills its own eternal quest. A search for meaning, for purpose, for function. Unless of course, this existence was all just a cruel mockery of life, a penny opera played at for sheer entertainment and amusement for a twisted audience unknown.
And as one entered the stage, another had left. It appeared the Umbramancer had melded effortlessly to this band of misfits. To an extent a least, having seemingly won the approval of the female aasimar, and at least the satisfaction of the beholder. The dark drow was more than welcome to inflict more exquisite agonies upon him, but this hazing ritual it seemed was not for everyone. Or was it? From the ranting spew sourced from the betentacled holder, Koan was more than cordial with all newcomers. Of which suggested to the shadowed one that this group was either much larger than they appeared, or far less successful. Something of a suicide squad perhaps given the commentary and numbers present. Yet before another comment could be made in stride (or in the case of the many-eyed-monster in float?), the cat-lizard objected even more of her protests. Something about the current females in the group out-playing her usual hand, so to speak, to which the draconian feline scampered off in a huff. Fair enough, if she was needed, she could be tracked, twas after all his particular job should Jill require a cat of some slug-like skill. 'Sauron' gave his parting acknowledgement, a nod with those ever-burning eyes keen on searing the tabaxi into memory. Then the gaze returned once more to Her, the aasimar who began it all, marking her words with a charmed smile as the devil's wit replied in kind: "It is a blessing then, should one find joy in one's own pain."
It was not too far a swim, to find a rather peculiar tiger. One suggested by the merwoman who seemed to be the guide for the group. Now a tiger on land made for a very fine rug, but underwater? Though almost as expected with a group of this oddity, the group had wove their way to see a polymorphed tiger. One that turned into a siren of blue scales and equally hued hair. And this one appeared to have somehow known the dunderhead, or whatever his name was, the harsh sounds coming from the beholder's mouth hole was rather unpleasant to a civil ear. Though by Koan's intervention, the dark elf had interceded in the inquisition, sparing the Fallen to answer with another clever retort. A clever tongue to twist the words and mind, drowning logic in lies and burying truth in charm. Yet for all the suspicion the beholder had cast upon 'Sauron' it appeared the man, or rather beast, was more than willing to accept a tiger turned into a fishgirl. Tentacles wrapt themselves around flesh and fin, scales and tail, in some lariat of gross mismatch. Although it seemed to the warlock at least, she may have some worth to the beholder.
Ah Koan, would she do the same rite to this newcomer? Another mix of... Species? A druid who so aptly clung on to an abomination? It was almost disgusting to watch the paternalistic affection afforded by Dyn. Yet in away it was amusing to 'Sauron' to watch the ever-vigilant being drop his guard for a familiar face, no matter now small the guard was. Certainly it would appear the tigergirl had his trust, some tidbit to exploit in due time. As the burning gaze scanned over their newest edition to the party. That said, what was their particular purpose of venturing forth into the chasm of the Verdant Stream? There would be an answer in the silence, and patience. As those eyes wandered to meet Jill's while Koan spared a moment to greet the druidess.
Strings drawn tight,
The ends reunited,
A completed close,
The Circle.
1x Like
